


Palace Of Bone

by Cozy_coffee



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst, Community: comment_fic, Drinking, Gen, Nightmares, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cozy_coffee/pseuds/Cozy_coffee
Summary: A fill for the comment_fic prompt: Prodigal Son, any, A Madness So Discreet
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13
Collections: Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2020





	Palace Of Bone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cornerofmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cornerofmadness/gifts).



It’s a cold, dark night and he cannot lay his weary head to rest. He devours half of a bottle of whiskey to dull out the wailing sounds of his sister begging for help, from the horrific sight of his father cutting out his mother's heart. His mother and sister are safe, it was only a nightmare. The thought of losing the people he loved has him crying softly, quivering with terror. His head pounds, the ache slicing through his mind like a razor-sharp knife, and please God, he prays, just end the misery.

Tears spill down his cheeks and he makes a soft, hurt sound as his fingernails dig into his temple. Night after night the nightmares tormente him, and when he lays his head upon the pillow, all he wishes for is a haven from his sorrowful torment.

It was just a bad dream; his mother told him. Close your eyes and think of something nice, let your heart be pure. He cannot rest; he tosses in the bed sheets, unable to find his way into the realm of dreams. The night remains endless, the hours ticking away as his mind haunts him.

The knife in hand, held tight by his father, controlling him, commanding him to take the life before him, and silver taunting him as it is slowly soaked in blood. He trembles and fears closing his eyes, he keeps seeing the girl in the box. If the possibility exists that she is real, are their more souls trapped in hideaway places. Lives taken in the dark of night, why could the police not find her?

To find slumber tonight is a lost cause. A nightmare which is hunting him feels real and false. The sunlight, simply out of reach, unable to warm away the chill rushing through his body. He slips from the bed, finding his way into the kitchen. A cup of tea does little to comfort him, the sound of silence in his home is haunting. He stands with his head hung, his body hunched over making his 6-foot frame seem smaller. He’s still and silent, barely breathing.

Turning, deciding to give sleep another try, he startles, screaming and dropping the cup. She sits on his bed, tears staining her cheeks, the girl in the box. ‘Please, help me,’ She begs, holding out her hands, offering her heart in her palm. He trembles, her sobs stabbing like a knife into his heart.

He screams himself awake, the restraints keeping him from throwing himself out the window. His heart beats frantically in his chest as he gasps for air. Malcolm’s eyes dart around the room looking for her, yet he is alone and terrified, unable to find peace on a cold winter night.

♥ END ♥

**Author's Note:**

> [Written for this prompt!](https://comment-fic.livejournal.com/1100548.html?thread=114713348#t114713348)


End file.
